Man with No Name
by mr.muse29
Summary: The Doctor's companions have gone missing. The only clue he has is the ghostly voices back on Persephone. He must find out who the puppet master is behind the Sateillite 5 incident before it's too late. On going story. Follow up on "Things I've Done."
1. Intro

_Author's Notes:_

_This is not a crossover! At least after this intro it won't be. I went ahead and skipped to the next story of "Things That I've Done." This is a HUGE spoiler for the ending of it. I have several writings that I want to get to with Doctor Who. So much in fact, that my impatience just couldn't take stretching it. So I created this Intro to be the wrap up of the first part to this story line so that I could jump into the good stuff. For those who are dying to read more of "Things That I've Done," let me know and I might make your wish come true ;D Enjoy._

**Doctor Who**

"Man with No Name"

**Intro (Sunset Serenity)**

The sky shook—

Serenity puffed a massive yellow streak of dust. Its glow shot out, trailing behind the flying insect-ish ship as she came around in orbit of Persephone.

The sun shone like a beacon on the ships' wing. Backing its dirt caked panels and jet engines. It road like a furious stallion soaring past Alliance cruisers.

"This is suicidal!" yelled Mal.

"You're tellin me!" came a voice over the radio.

The haul rattled to the planets' pull. Tossing the cabin off its perch. Mal gripped tightly to the helm steadying his worn ride. He sat forward, engage in the flight. All alarms and warnings bleeped and flashed over the control console and screens.

_LOW FUEL!_

_OVER HEATED ENGINE!_

_LOW WASHER FLUID!_

He whispered to his ship, "it's okay, sweetie. We're almost there."

She huffed again, her steel ribs grinding and complaining. She "blooped" at Mal who was trying to ignore the warning signs. It took him a while, but he finally noticed an intercepting line within the jumbled mess. He spoke into the radio.

"Hey, my radar is acting strange."

"_Don't worry about it, the space station emits several transmission all over the solar system. Your computers are bound to be jambled with."_

"We'll be in line of sight in a couple of minutes, how are you lookin back there?"

"_Good, well not really. But should work - I hope."_

"I'm takin your word for it," he shook his head, "_Doctor."_

"_I'm a professional of sorts."_

Serenity burped, sending black smoke from the jet engines. Her purr turned to a dry breath.

"_Oops."_

"I thought you said you knew what you were doing!" griped Mal.

"_A Doctor on a ship that's engine is older, dustier and has more broken parts than a stereo in an antique shop. What do you expect!" he paused, "I'll be up in a minuet." _

The jets fired a healthy glow, clearing the thick smoke. Serenity settled a bit gaining back her steady determination. She soared faster, catching up to where she should have been.

Mal's sweaty hands drenched the helm. He wiped his palms on his pant legs and took hold again. Focused on the horizon ahead of him. Waiting to see the Alliance space station peak around the corner. His heart pounded, shaking his arms and mind.

He pulled his thoughts back to calm himself down. Dusty panels. Burnt bulbs. Burnt wires and old stained pipes. Orange rusty flooring and thick musty air. He felt the shake of the ship. The heartbeat of the engine. The consistent churn and rattle that emanated through the floor and hallway.

"Relax," he told himself, "piece of cake."

Behind him came the shuffling of chairs and junk. Feet chunked closer over the loose steel plates. Up the stairs they went and in came the heavy breathing.

"Okay," a voice panted, "running in a hot ship - not good."

"Catch your breath, we're just about there." Said Mal.

The voice that came into the room slumped into the chair. A young man with lengthy hair and rustled clothes. He fixed his bowtie and pulled his sweaty bangs back. His face scrunched.

"What is that noise?" he asked.

"That's the radar." Answered Mal.

His head cocked awkwardly to the bizarre blooping.

"That doesn't sound right," he said.

Mal raised his eyebrow and groaned, "Huh? You said it was fine a minuet ago."

The man, still catching his breath, nodded in response. He held his hand up in defeat, his head slumping down to his chest. Almost suddenly, he propped up from the chair and pulled out a sonic screwdriver from his pocket. He pointed it at the second control console and pressed a few of the buttons.

"Anything?" asked the skeptical Captain.

"Huh." Stated the Doctor.

Mal gave him a flustered look. "_Well?"_ He asked forcefully.

"There's several readings," he paused reading the screen, "usual commands. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for—"

"—for?"

The Doctor soniced the computer screen again. Nothing happened.

"Oh, come on!" he yelled.

He slapped the side of the monitor and the computer bleeped back.

"A-ha!" The Doctor jumped in excitement, "There's a small feed being sent through. More like a system title."

"A what?"

"You know when you go to the museum, and there's an old lady who hands you a packet to remind you which museum you just walked into? It's like that, but the museum is a space station, and the old lady is this note."

Mal frowned and shook his head, "and what does the old lady say?"

The Doctor's face went a bit pale as he read it, "Blaidd Drwg."

"Blay-blah-what?" Mal choked on his words.

They both looked up to see the space station peak around the corner.

The Doctor answered, "Bad Wolf."

Three massive rings spun around a gigantic center column. An ancient beauty floating strong. All around it, Alliance cruisers and defense units. An unusual sight that the Doctor had seen before.

The Doctor drummed his fingers on his bottom lip, perplexed at the situation. He smacked his forehead, "bah!"

"What is it?" asked Mal.

The Doctor went on, not listening to his question. He began to mumble to himself, "Max, Big Brother, Bad Wolf, Game Station," he paused, "Satellite 5, the hub to several technical disasters, what the hell are you doing here? In this solar system."

His words were quiet and jumbled. A mad man rambling his thoughts out loud. He turned to Mal.

"It's a Satellite, a gigantic Satellite that houses every military and technique command for the Alliance. The 'big brain' or 'big brother' of the Alliance ships." He pointed up, "_That _'spacestation' is the backbone of this solar systems _entire _structure. They keep it hidden and safe from civilians and enemies by moving to different planets. The most people might _ever _see it in their lifetime, is once. Or rather, none."

"Huh."

"Funny thing is," he paused licking his lips, "I've seen it before. _Twice _before. But in the hands of someone else. This beast of a station has gotten around a few times. And now it's here."

"A Satellite, huh?"

"Yeah, that's why there's so many frequencies jumbling up your radar." The Doctor waved the sonic screwdriver at the blooping screen.

"Not what I expected," said Mal.

The Doctor rubbed his forehead, "same."

Both stared at the spinning hulk. The cruiser ships slowly activating and moving into formation in front of the space station. An entire field of massive enemy warships now lay between them and their destination.

Behind them, the sun shown. Reflecting the steel shell and hiding it in bright light.

"Now or never, Doctor. You better get into position."

"Right he said. Remember the plan," he paused, "and good luck."

The Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver and ran out of the cabin.

Fast she road, jets fuming. Serenity galloped with all her might. Facing the line of battleships like an oncoming storm. The sun shining bright and true across her wing. Guns fired. Red flashes streaked across her bow. All ships hammered towards her. Trying hard to gun her down. But she kept on.

Her haul shook furiously. Mal yanked the helm off to the right. Serenity spun fast dodging a vast cluster of lasers. One scraped the bottom of the ship. She churned and jumped in pain. The metal screeching throughout the ship.

He spun her back around and headed back on course. Sweat dripped down his brow. His red jacket tossed on the ground. He had pulled it off and rolled up his sleeves. The cooling system was out of power. The Doctor rerouted it to the main power drive to give more thrust. The entire ship was beginning to warm up fast.

"Doctor, could use a little less fire!" He cried, "_Doctor!"_

Serenity came in closer range of the heavy guns. More and more red flashes strut about her bow. Mal could barely see his destination. A docking quarter several kilometers away.

"Like hitting a bull's-eye from several miles away," he mumbled to himself.

A shot hit the top of the right jet. It went up in a pluming smoke cloud. The ship began to fight against his command. Veering off and loosening up his grip. Mal jumped up from his seat. He pushed his body into the helm, using his stance to keep her steady.

A new warning sign started to bleep.

_RIGHT JET FAILING_

He began to panic, "_Doctor!"_

A flash of light hit the window shield. Mal flew back, ragged onto the pilot seat. His eyes burning and mind spinning—

The cruiser lights shut off. The guns powered down. The entire Alliance front was dead in the water.

"_Sorry!" _came a familiar voice, "_Landed in the broom closet. Took me a bit to find a way out. How's the ship?"_

Mal sat forward, his ears and head pounded. He rubbed his face and reached for the helm again.

"Coulda used help a little sooner. One of the jets are about to go out."

As he said that, the right jet started to collapse to a putter. Serenity began to turn away from her designated path. Mal noticed this and pun the helm back to the right and fast as he could.

"I'm not sure how this is going to work, I'm losing control of her."

"_Ah," _the Doctor paused_, "You're going to need to drift."_

"Drift?"

"_Yes. Put the ship into full throttle and shut it off completely. That should give you enough time to align it. And physics will do the rest."_

"Are you kidding me! I can't even _see _the port."

"_Malcolm Reynolds, you are a war hero and survivor. You have saved so many people's lives. Started a chain reaction that will echo for a thousand generations,_" he paused, _"you-can-do-this. I know you can."_

Mal took a deep breath. He pulled back as far as he could on the power nozzle. The ship, with all of its might, shot forward. Both jets blasting and the tale burning, she flew straight.

Mal hunched down, eyeing the space station. Leveling where he thought that docking station was at, with the edge of the window. Creating a gun-barrel-effect.

"Straight and true," he whispered to the ship.

The ship shook slightly but he turned it off right in time. Pushed the engine throttle all the way down and flipped the power switch. The sky stallion quieted and darkened. Soaring straight at Satellite 5. Mal took another deep breath and sat back.

She slipped past the massive war birds. Hulking beasts of metal and men, staring viciously through their windows at him. Nothing they could do to stop him until the power came back on.

In massive letters on the side of the ship, "STAR LINE" and "DESTROYER."

The ship finished passing the cruisers and Serenity was minutes away from the dock.

Serenity glided in perfectly. At least as perfect as Mal could get it. The stomach of the ship collided with the docking ramp. Scraping and damaging holds and hooks around it. As it settled, Mal turned the power back on, keeping the engines off. He rubbed off the coldness and tossed his jacket back on.

"Doctor?" he said.

"…_back on, so that you don't collide with the ship and never mind. Mal?"_

"I got my gear, I've docked. Where do I meet you now?"

"_We're sticking to Plan A, meet me on deck 450. That's where your crew is being held."_

"On my way."

Mal stepped out of the elevator, tossing back a hand grenade as the doors began to shut. The inside blew up behind the thick steel doors.

"_Can you make any more noise?" argued the Doctor._

"Guards won't be getting up that way," explained Ma, "where are you at?"

Mal talked into a small radio clipped to his collar. His bangs were sweatier than back on the ship. He snuck his way up the first couple flights of stairs, then ramboed the rest. Took a lazy ride up the elevator to keep the guards from skipping ahead. A gunshot cut his arm and favorite rebel jacket. He squeezed it, biting his lip to ignore the pain.

"Doctor?"

"_I'm almost to the infirmary. Should be just down the hall from you and to the left, I think."_

Mal took off running. The hallway stretched far in front. It wouldn't be a quick walk there, but a quick jog. The guards had run down to the lower levels to try and catch them. But both snuck past their defense and above. It the 450th floor wide open.

"_There's two doors to get it," _explained the Doctor, "_One from your side and one from mine."_

"We can pinch'em," suggested Mal.

"_Don't do anything until I get there!"_

Mal ran around the corner and booked it to the far end. Straight ahead was the infirmary. A door, split down the middle. A window on each door looking in. He couldn't make them out, but he did notice some movement inside.

He let go of his arm, adrenaline bumping widely in his viens. His heart pounded, his mind pumped. In a fluent motion he slid up to the door, opened it and slipped in.

Both men were inside, in mid conversation. They both looked over to face him.

Mal stopped and stood up straight. The pain and chaotic emotional fury disappeared. His shoulders pulled back, he held himself tall and confident. To the back he could hear the Doctor running closer. The suspicious young man. The unusual blue box, time-traveler who fell aboard his ship and took command. The one who wanted to keep him from his revenge.

The Doctor came into sight. Mal pulled out his revolver and plugged a swift shot into the control panel by the back door. The panel popped and smoked, closing the door. The Doctors' face disappearing from behind it. The doors shut before the Doctor could finish, "Wai-!"

"Sorry Doctor," he whispered, "I will have my revenge."

Mal turned his dark stare at the two men. Their blue hands calmly folded on the table in front of them. Both with their eyebrows arched up in disgust and frustration.

The Doctor scrambled to the door. He tore his jacket open, yanking out the sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the door frame. The screwdriver "hizzed" a bit. He frowned and analyzed the screwdriver, "Dead bolt. Damn."

The door was thick and soundproof. He could only make out a few lipped words through the window part of the door. A small square port hole, large enough for a head to look into.

Mal stood at the front entrance, his mischievous cocky grin smeared across his face.

"Ohp, definitely not going well."

The Doctor smushed his face against the glass, peering in. He huffed a big sigh of defeat and groaned.

"Nobody listens."

He himself and slapped his forehead, "_think, think."_

The Doctor paced back and forth, swirling his fingers around each other. Mumbling mechanics and most unusual things.

"Dead bolt, dead bolt, wire, lock, frame. Bolty deadness," he grumbled, "what to do with you!"

His hands exasperated, pitched an air ball at the locked door.

Just then the door gasped and opened. Followed by two gun shots.

The Doctor looked in just in time to see the blue man's hand fall off the security button under the desk.

Both men fell to the ground.

The Doctor ran in.

Mal sat up shaking his head. Blurry lights spun around him. He wiped his dreary eyes. His fingers covered in blood. His brain pounded more. Voices talked. Mumbled and conversed. The last words he remembered the Doctor saying, "Don't shoot!"

"I'm sorry," choked Mal.

He pulled himself up from the ground. The room was the same. The two men lay sprawled on the ground though. No guards. The back door was open and the Doctor knelt by one of the men. Talking to him.

"What do you mean?" The Doctor asked the blue man.

"Are they dead?" stammered Mal.

The Doctor didn't respond, he kept talking to the blue man.

"Who?" he asked, "_who?"_

The Doctor's head drooped. He rubbed his face and pulled his hair back, sighing deeply. The blue man died.

"They deserved it," explained Mal, "for what they did."

"What for?" the Doctor scolded, "they couldn't help it."

"Pff! What?"

The Doctor took another deep breath and stood up.

"They're not even _human._ They're both Larbaks."

Mal repeated himself, "What?"

"A Goat species from Plumose, a planet on the other end of the galaxy. Brilliant doctors and such, a little on the brain-dead side though, love them, great people. Make the best tools for hospitals. But can only be used by Larbak hands_, literally_."

Mal looked at him, baffled.

The Doctor went on, "Their hands are _physically_ different from human ones. So they must cloak their entire body, except for their hands. That way they still have access to their tools. That's also why they wear those blue gloves."

"Their hands look find to me?"

The Doctor bent over and pulled off the blue mans glove, revealing a white furry paw.

"That cylinder thingy is one of their tools. A sonic device. Like mine. But mine fixes metal, theirs fixes organic things. Cuts, bruises and such. Like a sonic-organic-fixing-thing. I suspect that's how they get people to bleed. A quick flick of the device and vwah-lah, internal bleeding. It's what they used to knock you out."

"Great, so they're hairy-handed aristocratic old men. That still doesn't justify them kidnapping an innocent girl and experimenting on her brain."

"They're not old men, they're Larbaks."

"Right, space goats."

"They use a shimmy device to cloak themselves."

"A what?"

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screw driver and flicked it on, "shimmy."

The blue man's entire body shifted and bubbled. Warped and grew. His hair became longer and paled. His face stretched to a snout and two tan horns curled up from his forehead.

Mal stepped back, "O-okay, what the hell is that?"

The Doctor shook his head in aggravation.

He went on, "Larkbaks usually require guidance from another source. A 'higher being' as you humans call it."

"None of this is making sense. They are the leaders, we killed them. Goat man or not. It's all finished, right?" Said Mal flustered.

The Doctor eyed him curiously and smirked.

"Of course."

The Doctor couldn't believe how badly Mal was taking to this alien concept. Though he had yet to tell him about his own lack of humanness.

"Look, how about you go find your crew. I'll meet you on your ship in fifteen minutes. Just want to check something out on the top floor."

Mal nodded and walked off, holstering his revolver.

The Doctor stood alone over the dead bodies of the blue men. At least, one blue man and one blue goat.

So many questions ran through his mind. He still wasn't sure about everything. How Satellite 5 could show up _again _after encountering it twice before. Now in a completely different solar system. Why the Larbaks _would _torture and experiment on an innocent girl. It isn't in their nature to be vicious or cruel. Even with some 'higher being' involved. Or perhaps it was an absence of leader. A lost genius on a confused path of inventions. From what the Doctor had gathered though, River was a 'side hobby' for the Larbak men.

Up on the top floor came a rasping, churning rumble. Light perked from a small bulb atop a large blue box. The front doors cracked open and out stepped the Doctor. Into a massive dark, empty room. He looked at the massive painted number on the wall, "500."

There he stood in the ruins of past memories. Daleks, cybermen and the news. Fall of his friends. The last of his tenth regeneration. An entire structure tainted with the evil of men and alien. Now a dark void ignored by even the most powerful force in the solar system.

He looked worried through the abandoned hallways. The bulbs were webbed. Ground and walls, dusty. The entire place was damp and musty. Not a single living thing had stepped foot onto that floor for at least a thousand years.

Unsatisfied with his findings, the Doctor turned around and made his way back into the TARDIS. From behind, something moved. A cold gust of wind rolled up his spine, chilling his bones. The hairs on the back of his neck stood tall as he bit his tongue. Remembering what the Larkbak told him.

"_Voices,"_ stammered the Larkbak, _"in the dark. Calling."_

"_What voices?"_ asked the Doctor.

"_Blaidd Drwg, Blaidd Drwg."_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_He's coming."_

Despite the damage from the crash, Serenity was able to pull herself out and fly back around to the other side of the planet. Or course, the Doctor did have to displace their ship a few seconds out of sync with time. Then the Alliance cruisers wouldn't be able to catch them.

They landed in Persephone, a few miles from the outskirts of the main city. Hidden in dusty canyons and cloudy sunshine. The front door to the ship opened to the blue box. That had appeared only a few seconds after they landed. The Doctor stood, leaning up against the side of the TARDIS. Smiling at the newly united crew of Serenity.

Mal grinned at the Doctor.

"Thank you for your help, Doctor."

The Doctor shook his head, "it's fine."

"Now that everything is finished, where you gonna go?"

"Oh, there's still tons of things to see. Places to go. An entire _universe_ of billions of wondrous things."

The Doctor mimed the beautiful sights as he thought about them. Waves, hills, trees. His excited lust for adventure popping in his twitchy jumps.

"Also the occasional damsel in distress-"

"heh."

"I get a lot of those. But what about you! Back off to the great desert ride? Strolling to the sunset?"

"Yep. Keep working. Keep traveling."

The Doctor nodded.

They stood in awkward silence.

"Yep," said Mal.

"Yeah, I'm not too good with these goodbyes. I should probably go."

"You still haven't told me your name you know."

"I did. It's the Doctor."

"After all this, I think I deserve to know you by your real name."

He didn't say anything. Just smirked and turned around, walking back to the TARDIS.

Mal shook his head, "Right."

The Doctor threw on his Stetson and gunned the air with his fingers, "later cowboy!"

"See yah later," Mal smiled, "man with no name."


	2. Chapter 1

_Author's Notes:_

_This is a really short chapter. Just to get the story rolling again. Working on the next part. Think of it as the first part to an episode before the title hits._

"Man With No Name"

**Chapter One (Takin' A Ride)**

The eastern wind scoffed loudly—

Kicked at the grass fields in long strides, then pulled back violently to the grey sky. A childish display of power that ripped the branches from the strongest trees. Sailed them for miles over rural grounds. Then pulled down the heavy English rain.

The mighty storm gathered solely above the flickering London streets. Clumped into massive dark clouds that clasped the thunders rays. An awesome sight of crackling blue bolts and eerie warped silhouettes.

Even through the storms rage, could the sound of screams be heard. They pierced the sky and echoed down the long empty road that ran away from the city. A wet abandoned motorway left to the mercy of toppling growth.

But at the same time, there came an unexpected rush of water and smoke. A puttering followed by the unmistakable scrunching of rubber tires on wet asphalt. A shabby box of squeaking bolts and rattling metal sheets. Rusted spoke wheels and wet black leather seats. The racing beauty of canary yellow held a small sign, "WHO 99."

"Away we go, Bessie!" cried the driver.

The roadster, soaked by the rain, croaked. Coughed and shook up a plume of thick blue smoke. The car's roof was burnt and broken. Left scrunched in the back and out of the way. To this, the entire inside of the car was left damp.

Though the strange man had no care in the world about it. He sat back, holding his cowboy hat on.

His overgrown hair stuck out from the sides. Slightly covered his bent paper spectacles, which had a red and blue lens. He wore a red bowtie and a wicked grin that stretched across his face.

"I have a good feeling about this," he said, "We might make it there with only a _few_ lost limbs."

His courageous expression turned to the rearview mirror.

"_Right_, focusing."

The Doctor looked back ahead and gripped the wooden steering wheel tightly. His face now grumpy.

"How I haven't missed driving _this thing_."

The Doctor shivered and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Looks like it's already starting."

He pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch, "December 25th, 2012."

"As long as we don't—"

The engine exploded.


End file.
